Because of Me
by Unfortunate Fates
Summary: When Blaine is attacked and broken, he knows he'll need help to recover.  But he never expected it'd be Kurt who needed help picking up the pieces
1. Shattered

Because of Me

Word count: 1,317

_When Blaine is attacked and broken, he knows he needs to recover. But he never thought it'd be Kurt who needed help picking up the pieces._

**A/N: This is my first story ever(!) so please try not to be harsh. All criticism is appreciated, and reviews are absolutely wonderful **** I'll try to update as regularly as possible, but those of you with busy schedules can hopefully sympathize with my situation. Enjoy!**

The first thing I was aware of was the pain. Everywhere. It hurt; it hurt so badly I couldn't think. Couldn't begin to fathom where I was, even after I opened my eyes. All I could see was him, standing there like an angel. I wanted to just sit and stare, but the concerned look in his eyes worried me. I decided to try out my voice.

"Wha-?" My throat scratched, and I halted.

"Blaine! You're awake!" Kurt's big blue eyes stared down at me eagerly, but I didn't miss the shadows under them.

"Where am I? What happened? Why do you look so tired?" I asked, my pitch getting higher and my voice slightly louder with each word.

"You're in the hospital Blaine. Karofsky and those other Neanderthals attacked you," his eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw, "you don't remember?"

"I can't remember a thing." The last thing I could remember was walking with Kurt to his car. We had been studying together in my dorm and I was spending the weekend with his family in Lima. I remembered walking past the Senior Commons, passing some Warblers, I even remembered waving to them. But after stepping outside, I recalled nothing. It was like someone had taken an eraser and swept my mind clean. "What day is it, anyways?"

"Monday," he stated grimly, "they had to keep you under because of your concussion."

"Concussion? What the hell happened to me?" Right after I asked the question, it hit me. And it hit me hard. Images flew through my brain at a breakneck pace, only stopping enough for me to see what they were. And then, it all slowed down and everything made sense. It was perfectly clear.

"Hey homo!" Karofsky had called, "got yourself a boyfriend?" He drew out the word, making it an insult. Beside me, Kurt's cheeks flushed a delicate pink. He put his head down and murmured to me to keep walking and ignore them. But I had other plans.

"Hey! Leave him alone! What are you so afraid of?" I had shouted, surprising myself with how close my shout was to Kurt's that day in the locker room. I shuddered. Where had mild tempered, charming Blaine gone?

"Getting exposed?" I prompted. Karofsky blanched. The second I said those words I regretted them. I could see the shift in Karofsky's eyes, the way he stood just a little broader, as he walked towards us.

"Hey homo! Why'd your little boyfriend," he twisted the word, "yell at me, huh? You know what I said I'd do if you told anyone. Or are you stupid enough to forget?" He lunged.

I stepped in front of Kurt just as Karofsky swung. And then there was pain. Blinding, mind blowing, unfathomable pain as he punched me again and again. The face, the stomach, the chest. All were under siege. And all I could think to do was run. All I wanted to do was run. But I remembered my last thought being about Kurt. I frowned, trying to remember. Then it came to me.

_You ran once and you always regretted it. Stay. For Kurt._

And that's when everything went black.

"Blaine? Blaine!" Kurt shouted, bringing me out of my reverie. The look on my face must have been enough to show that I remembered because he nodded slightly before continuing, "I said, you have a concussion, three broken ribs, a broken nose, and a pretty nasty black eye."

His face was a picture of grief and guilt. I wondered why. Was his dad all right? He'd been out of the hospital for a while now, and he seemed pretty healthy. What about- oh. It must have been me. But why? I was going to be fine, it was obvious. Kurt still seemed pretty shaken up, though. It must be scary to be persecuted like that. He just had to know that I wouldn't ever let Karofsky attack him again.

"Hey Kurt, you okay?" I tried to sound casual, failing miserably.

He pretended not to notice. "I'm fine, why?" he asked, and the contrast of his expression and his statement seemed grimly humorous.

"Honestly?" he nodded, "I'm going to be fine Kurt, and so are you. I won't let them hurt you, I promise." I tried to sound as reassuring as possible.

"You're worried about me? You think I'm worried about ME? You think I'm worried about me when you're the one stuck in the hospital bed with a fricking concussion and you think I'm worried about me?" His tone was absolutely furious and his usually carefully chosen words were running together. I had never seen him this angry.

"Yes?" I supplied helpfully.

"No Blaine, no! What is wrong with you? What will it take for you to see that I lo- that I can't stand to see you hurt; I can't stand to see you in the hospital. And it's all because of me!"

"Kurt, I-"

"And don't you even think about interrupting me!" his eyes widened and a frantic look came into them, "If you had never met me you would never be in this position, and Karofsky would stick to hurting me and not anybody else. You know what?" a bitter tone came into his voice, "they say that the best way to hurt someone is to hurt the people they love. My mom, my dad, and now you Blaine."

And Kurt began to cry. Kurt, who had only cried at his father's bedside, unsure if he'd be alive, was crying. Kurt, who had held his head high at taunts, at bullying. Kurt, who was the bravest person I knew, was crying. I was speechless.

I put my hand on his arm, and we locked eyes. He'd said he loved me. I tried to put everything I wanted to say into mine, not wanting to break the connection. Where was my voice when I needed it most? Where was the voice that would sing everything I felt, that would wipe my troubles away? Why had my only weapon failed me when I had everything to lose? I could only gaze helplessly into those green-blue eyes._ I love you too._ I tried to tell him. I tried to break through my intense desire, my yearning, to show him the raw emotion. I couldn't stop staring. But eventually I looked away; surprised to find my cheeks wet with tears I hadn't felt. And perhaps that was the most terrifying thing of all.

I was his mentor. What was I doing crying? Crying because, well, because he was in pain. A mentor wouldn't do that. A mentor wouldn't try to tell his pupil he- he loved him, would he?

And now I was back. Perhaps not to square one, but not to square two either. I was somewhere in the middle of the two, hanging in between love and sanity, and knowing there was only one way to go from here. Up.

A/N: Not entirely pleased with how this turned out, but I'm happy I wrote it. In case you were wondering, my inspiration came from the beautiful fic Knife Going In by Keitorin Asthore, go read it if you haven't! In my eyes though, Blaine was the one attacked, and it was pure fear that drove Karofsky. Poor, confused Blaine. Sad, forsaken Kurt. This fic has got angst written all over it. Will there be love in the end? Stay tuned!


	2. Candles

"Mom, I miss you," my voice wavered.

"I miss you too baby. But now it's okay, I'm coming home, and I'm never leaving again. I promise." Her words made me grin. I hadn't been this happy since I was a kid, before my mom moved out. I just missed her _so _much. I slowly opened my eyes before telling her what I needed her to know, what I hadn't told her in what seemed like eternity:

"Mom, I love you"

"Blaine? Blaine? What are you talking about?" my mom asked, staring down at me. I knew those eyes, those sweet blue eyes- wait. My mom has brown eyes. Then who-?

"Earth to Blaine…" Kurt teased

"Oh, sorry. Guess I fell asleep."

"It's fine," he smiled for a moment but then reverted to his original, carefully blank facial expression. "Listen, the doctors wanted me to wake you up. There's a detective coming. She already interviewed me. Do you want me to stay?"

"Of course, I want you to stay," shouldn't it be obvious? "But interviewing about what?"

"The," he faltered, "attack."

Oh. How could I have been so stupid? Had I honestly forgotten that I was in the hospital? Ugh. My dream had put me in such a good mood, and when I woke up I was just depressed. I had so wanted it to be real. And now not only was I in a bleak mood, I had reminded Kurt of why we were here in the first place. He looked so down.

"Umm okay, so," I wasn't exactly sure how to do this, but I had to try to cheer him up, "what did the ocean say to the other ocean?"

Now, not only was I depressed, I felt incredibly stupid. Way to go Blaine.

"Nothing, it waved." He responded, unaffected. "You'll need better jokes than that if you plan to make someone laugh you know."

I sighed, planning on a clever retort until I was interrupted. The detective walked in. Or at least I assumed it was the detective. She was petite in stature, with a short pixie cut the color of Kurt's hair. Her eyes were big and blue and if I hadn't known better I'd have thought she was Kurt's sister.

"Detective Hawthorne at your service. You're Blaine?"

"That would be me,"

"Excellent. Kurt says you were attacked on Friday afternoon?" I nodded, "Can you explain what happened?"

I swallowed and looked at Kurt. He was looking at the ground. How to begin?

"Well, we were walking to Kurt's car and there was a group of guys from Kurt's old school. They were insulting Kurt and-" I was cut off.

"What were they saying? Do you know why they were insulting Kurt?" When she said his name my eyes immediately drifted over to him. I saw his eyes widen with fear as he looked up and met my gaze. He was pale as a ghost. Shaking slightly, he moved his head a fraction of an inch. But it was enough for me to get what he meant.

"Um- I couldn't hear. And no I-I don't. I don't know why."

"All right…" I could tell that she didn't believe me. Luckily she didn't push it any further, just asking about my injuries until she left.

"Kurt," I was nervous to address him. Through the interview he'd seemed so- so fragile. A word I'd never though in a million years I'd use to describe confident, sassy Kurt.

"Yes?" He was looking down again.

"Kurt, look at me. It's okay. I'm here and I'm not leaving, I couldn't even if I wanted to." He looked offended. Okay Blaine, backtrack, backtrack. "I mean, I almost like it here," and this is where it gets difficult, "because I'm with you all the time."

There it was. I dropped the bomb. Mentor Blaine just flew out the window.

"Blaine, I don't want us to be like this. I want to be happy together under normal circumstances, not like _this_." Tears were shining in his eyes again. Crap. Now you've done it Blaine. Awesome.

"Kurt, maybe this is a blessing in disguise. It made me realize that I- that I really want to be with you," now I was just rambling, rushing to get the words he needed to hear out, "When Karofsky threatened you, I just couldn't stand it. You were there looking so- so perfect and I wanted you. Okay Kurt? I wanted you so much. Just stay with me, please."

"Blaine, I can't-"

"Blow the candles out…" Oh my God Blaine what is wrong with you? I had finally found my voice. Usually that would be a positive thing, but now I couldn't stop it. Whenever I got nervous I would always sing. When I had my first crush, at the spelling bee in fourth grade (don't even ask), to Jeremiah in Gap. And now. When I needed to be cool and calm and collected I was the exact opposite. I just needed him to hear me out. So I did the only thing I thought could've grabbed his attention: I sang our duet the whole way through.

By myself.

I put all my emotion into it, tried to show that since then I never stopped loving him. Since my brash declaration I'd never left him. I never wanted to hurt him. I loved him.

"Blaine." That was all he said after I finished. Just my name. But the meaning behind the word killed me. It was sorrow, longing, desire, and pure grief. The tears were pouring down his face and it broke my heart. Just one small word. And it killed me inside. Why did I have to sing? Why was I so _stupid_? I ruined his day, his week, heck, even ruining one moment of his life was wrong. I wanted to curse the universe for doing this to Kurt. Why did this happen to him? Why not hurt me? Why not hurt someone with nothing to lose? The only thing I was scared of losing was him.

Now I knew what I had to do. I looked p, prepared to tell him what I'd discovered, to find him walking away from me, shoulders shaking.

"Kurt, please!" Desperation filled my voice, and I hated it.

"I'm sorry Blaine. I'm so sorry," he said through his tears, stopping at the door. I could barely hear him, let alone see him. Tears of my own were blocking my face; my quiet sobs filled my ears. So this was sadness. Nothing compared.

"Kurt!" My shout was strained, warped by pain.

He just kept walking.

I can't say how long I sat there crying, hunched over the CD he'd brought me on his first visit. That felt like eons ago. Eventually, though, a nurse came in and after one look at me walked right over to my IV and injected something. I immediately began to feel drowsy. As I began to fall asleep I thought of Kurt and how it had all gone wrong. I shuddered and emitted one last sob, his name, before the blackness got the best of me.

Look like a solo tonight…

**A/N: Well Blaine seems very sarcastic in this chapter doesn't he? I almost feel bad about making him this angsty, but I'm kind of on an angst kick and Blaine is awesome to write. After watching Glee last night I just had to write this. The duet I referenced (Candles by Hey Monday, covered by Klaine) was breathtaking and Blaine's smooth declaration of love astounded me. Which is why I wrote this chapter in sharp contrast. Smooth-talking, happy Blaine is nowhere to be found. **** And I really wanted to thank everyone who favorited/alerted my story. It really means the world to me.**

**Reviews = joy! :D**


	3. Bipolar

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, sadly, and I promise to give them back when I finish playing with them.

When I woke up I first felt pain. Then I felt an enormous amount of déjà vu. The whole waking up in pain thing. And then I felt the true pain. Not the shallow pain that heals with time, but the mind-numbing pain of loss. Kurt was gone. And I was to blame. This was the kind of pain that I knew would never truly leave. Maybe it could be dulled, even pushed to the back of my mind. But this pain could never truly be forgotten.

"Blaine?" a tall figure walked in and blocked my doorway. His dark, close cropped hair and hazel eyes meant that I bore a striking resemblance to him. I personally always connected more closely to my mother. He came no closer than a few steps into the room.

"Dad." It was a statement. Not a question, not an exclamation, but a statement. It was all he deserved in my opinion.

"Hey kiddo," I hated it when he called me that, "How're you?"

"Just great."

He must have sensed the lack of inflection because a truly concerned look came into his eyes.

"Dad, listen. I'm fine okay? I just had a rough day yesterday."

"Yesterday? But weren't you admitted to the hospital Friday?"

"Yes Dad, yesterday. I don't want to talk about it. Can you go? I'm tired."

This was completely false. After sleeping for who knows how long all I wanted was to talk to someone. But who was I honestly kidding? I wanted to talk to Kurt. I wanted him to come back and I wanted to start over. I wanted to sweep him off his feet. I wanted to kiss him.

Wow. There it was. Out in the open. Or however open my mind is. I couldn't take it back, not that I wanted to, but it felt different, admitting it to myself. I want to kiss Kurt. And it was the truth, so true it hurt. And I knew what I needed to do.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" Maybe not my best plan, but it was effective.

"Mr. Anderson? Are you all right?" A frantic nurse came running in.

"I- I- I don't know!" I cried out while bursting into tears. Those years of musical theater were finally paying off.

"Well what hurts?" Okay Blaine, time to get creative.

"My heart!" I wailed, clutching at my chest, "He left." I peered up at her through my lashes.

"Who? He?"

"Yes, he. His name is Kurt, Kurt Hummel. He was here yesterday and he left and I really need him here. Can you call him?" I sniffled.

"Of course I can sweetheart. Just calm down, okay?" Success!

"Thank you." I beamed, and she smiled back hesitantly. I had this strange feeling she had added bipolar to my conditions, but at this point I just didn't care. I was getting Kurt back, and I knew exactly how I was going to do it.

I looked out the window, scowling at the beautiful view of a dark alley filled with trash.

Get yourself together Blaine. You can do this. And whatever you do, do _not _sing again. That hadn't gone over too well. How should I word this?

Kurt, I need to tell you something. I want to kiss you. No, that was definitely not a good idea.

Kurt, I love you. No, too forward. How about- my thoughts were interrupted when I heard a hesitant knock on the door to my room. It could only be Kurt. My heart wrenched. He had come in just the day before without a warning, and had watched me while I slept. Obviously that sense of comfort was long gone.

"Blaine? Are you awake?" His voice seemed scratchy from lack of use. Or from crying. I was familiar with both.

"Yeah, come on in Kurt." This was wrong. We were acting like we barely knew each other. He had stopped a few feet from the door when I got a glimpse of his face. I barely stifled my gasp.

He looked terrible. As terrible as an angel can look, but still. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks flushed to a deep red, and his lips were pressed into a tight line.

"Kurt, I have something to say. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I messed up, and I'm sorry I provoked Karofsky. I'm sorry I snapped at you and I'm sorry I ended up in here. What I'm not sorry about is the fact that I told you I loved you. Because that is absolutely, one hundred percent true." By this point my heart was pounding. Could he hear it? I looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

"Blaine, you shouldn't be sorry, I should. It's just when you sang our duet, and you told me you wanted me, I got scared. I love you Blaine, don't get me wrong. I loved you from the moment I met you." His brutal honestly never faltered. "But things don't come easy to me. I came out of the closet- I got bullied mercilessly. I stood up to bullies- I was sexually assaulted. I fell in love- I caused the object of my affection to get thrown into the hospital. Blaine, everything I touch gets ruined and I never wanted you to get hurt. I should've just left you alone." His last words were almost lost in the tears that covered his cheeks.

"Kurt, come here." He obeyed. "You fell in love and he loved you back. So what if he got hurt along the way? He just wants to be with you Kurt. Can't you see?"

"So what if you got hurt? Blaine you can't be serious! He tried to kill you!"

"I am."

"Blaine."

"I'll heal Kurt! If you leave me I will never forget you. I pulled every trick in the book to get them to let me call you. I screamed at them bloody murder just to get a nurse to come in. I wouldn't do that for just anyone."

He looked somewhat amused as I told him the story, leaving out the part about my breakdown. He'd thank me later. He even smiled when I described my answer to her question, "what hurts?" But it was only moments before he was serious again.

"Blaine, this is why I can't stay. You are amazing. You have such a-"

"Excuse me, visiting hours are over," Crap. Really? The timing was just so terrible, "Relatives only."

"Oh, that's fine. I'm his stepbrother. Kurt Hummel-Anderson." He delivered the line without hesitation, without even looking up. My jaw dropped. He winked at me out of the corner of his eye and I almost didn't contain my laugh. Kurt was brilliant. As the nurse walked away he turned back towards me, a smug on his face.

"All right. Where were we?"

"I love you," I blurted out. I honestly didn't think it was possible to be this impulsive.

Kurt shifted uncomfortably. Idiot, idiot, idiot. He just risked being caught in a lie to stay a few moments longer with you and you had to ruin it.

"I know, Blaine, I just- can we talk about something a little, I don't know, lighter? I've been so stressed with everything going on lately," he waved his hand around vaguely, "I just want to relax."

"Of course!" Way to sound way too eager Blaine, you don't need to tone it down at all. Just keep driving the guy you love away. Atta boy.

I struggled to regain my train of thought. "How's life at Dalton been lately?"

He looked down guiltily. "I actually haven't been back. I took a mental health day and hung out with my family," he blushed crimson, "I really needed it." 

"The warblers must be scrambling without us, huh?"

He laughed. The sound was incredible. It was a light, carefree sound and I couldn't get enough. I hadn't heard him laugh since I had been admitted to the hospital.

"I guess. Wes and David probably took over." He shuddered, and I didn't blame him. I grinned at him.

"Maybe Wes is taking the high part now." We had been practicing a new song featuring Kurt's insanely high vocal range, without him rehearsal was most likely a train wreck.

"Oh, I dearly hope not. Hey Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"It's getting kind of late…" he fidgeted with his Marc Jacobs coat. Or at least I assumed it was Marc Jacobs. It wasn't like I knew what brand more than half of his clothes are.

"Kind of. You all right?"

"Would you- would you mind if I umm…stayed tonight? With you?" he dropped his voice to a whisper, "I've been having nightmares."

"Of course! Please!" It just hurt me so much to see him hurting. Maybe if he wouldn't listen to me tell him I loved him, I could show him. He hesitantly curled up next to me in my bed and I lightly rested my arm on his side. He shivered and scooted closer to me. I couldn't remember how long we were in that position before I spoke up.

"Hey Kurt, you know what this reminds me of?" I asked, but got no answer, "Kurt?"

He was asleep. But not deeply or comfortably, that was for certain. He kept shifting and whimpering quietly. Every time he did so I would pull him a little closer.

"Sh Kurt, it's gonna be okay. Everything is gonna be fine, I promise." I hesitated before adding, "I love you." He rested his head against my chest.

Soon I began to doze off too, and all I could think was how much I wished these were the 'normal circumstances' Kurt had talked about, and how much I wished this could last forever.

**A/N: This chapter seemed harder to write than the others. I tried to add a little bit of humor to contrast all of the intense angst, but this isn't the end for Kurt and Blaine's troubles. Not by a long shot ****. I just wanted to thank everyone who alerted my story and reviewed, and it made me smile to see all of the favorites. You don't understand how much it can brighten an author's day until you start to write! I hope that I can keep updating at this rate, or at least close to it, and I have the next chapter written. I like to stay a chapter ahead so I can update regularly. I love you all! 3**


	4. Fluffy

"Mr. Anderson?" The nurse's face was confused and slightly shocked. I stifled a yawn and smiled.

"Uh huh?"

"We usually don't allow guests to…" she waved a hand in my general direction. It was then that I remembered Kurt sleeping next to me and blushed.

"Sorry. Kurt, hey, wake up." Once she asserted that Kurt was, in fact, awake, she exited the room.

He turned to me sleepily, "Hey Blaine. 'Morning." It was kind of hard to keep a steady train of thought when his hair was sticking up in several directions in that endearing way that only Kurt could pull off.

"Hey, you have to get up. You're supposed to be in the chair."

"Does that require moving?" He was so adorable when he was disoriented. No, Blaine. Stop it. Take it slow. You are _friends_.

"Yes, it does. Come on Kurt, up." I part lifted, part pushed him out of my bed and immediately missed the warmth of his body next to me. I tried to push these thoughts out of my mind with little success. Maybe it would just take practice?

Ha. Fat chance.

"You did not!"

"Swear."

"Blaine Anderson, you are such a liar!" His tone was so indignant that I laughed. The story was completely true, of course. The second I laughed, however, a sharp pain shot through my ribs. A low hiss of pain escaped from my suddenly clenched teeth.

"Blaine! Are you all right? I'm so sorry, I didn't- I didn't realize-"

"I'm fine," that was true, actually. The pain had been brief, though intense. I honestly wished I hadn't laughed when I saw Kurt's face. His features that had been so animated and happy just moments before were now warped.

"Really," I said, softer than before, "it only lasted a second, it wasn't even bad. I was just surprised. I haven't laughed in a while. It was nice."

"It would've been nicer if you didn't have three broken ribs." His voice was full of venom. The venom wasn't for me, but for Karofsky. I could see it in the far off glint in his eye. He was dreaming of revenge. Definitely not good. Time to change the subject.

"Where were we? I believe we were speaking of my excellent spying abilities." Normally I would have run away from this topic at a dead sprint, but at this point I would do pretty much anything to get his mind off of the attack.

"Ah, yes. I still don't believe you stalked that guy before he auditioned for the warblers. I mean really Blaine?" He chuckled, "What was his name again?"

I blanched. Okay, think Blaine. "You don't know him," Safe enough.

"I think I could be the judge of that." He smiled mischievously. Crap. Did he know? "Name?"

I was about to make up some absurd name just to mess with him when he smiled at me. It was a smile of friendship and screwed up my name making up completely. "Kurt Hummel," I said without thinking. That boy had way too much of an effect on me.

He seemed to realize the implications of my admission at the same time that I did. That adorable flush was starting to spread up his face. I would've smiled if I hadn't been completely mortified. Really? What in the world was I thinking? I just told Kurt, the guy I was madly in love with (no! stop it!) that I power stalked him on YouTube the night I met him. What was he supposed to think about me now? I mentally smacked myself. Several times. Hard.

"Really? You stalked me?" His voice was controlled to show nothing more than curiosity, but I could hear the layers of emotion he kept restrained. And I hated that he was keeping them from me.

"Yeah. About that… sorry?"

"Sorry? That's adorable!" he laughed, "Honestly, Blaine. And who's to say I didn't do a little research of my own?" He quirked an eyebrow as he said this and my heart started to race again. Okay, time for another change of subject.

"Ariel or Belle?" Kurt seemed surprised by my abruptness, but didn't betray it when he replied, "Belle, of course." This led to a spirited discussion about Disney princesses, which led to a discussion about Disney movies, which, somehow, led to a movie marathon. I couldn't have been happier. It was only when Kurt admitted he had homework (and the nurse practically dragged him out) was I left alone.

And I had a lot of mixed feelings to sort through.

Where to begin? I loved him. He loved me not. No, it wasn't that simple. He loved me, just not in the same way. Something changed that night, when the accident took place. Something monumental. I didn't have to think hard to remember why I took those punches. _For Kurt. _It was at that moment that I put aside everything I'd thought I'd known about anything. Cruelty, love, and friendship all took on a whole new meaning for me. And I knew I was stronger because of it.

The biggest change was in Kurt, though. Whereas before he would have a never ending expanse of jokes at my expense, he now acted as if I was fragile, as if I couldn't handle being poked fun at. As if I was…him. As if I was him. Makes sense. I was bullied, but Kurt had had no personal experience of me being bullied. Of course not. I was the mentor, the example. Why would _I_ get bullied? It must have been the breaking point for him.

The nurse walked in, breaking up my thoughts. I really thought I was on to something.

"Mr. Anderson, one of our staff has told us about your…mood swings." Really? I knew that'd come back to haunt me. "I just brought you some new medication. And your brother told me to tell you he'd be back soon. He also said that Belle is the best? He said you'd understand." He would give a nurse a secret message. I smiled to myself. "Anyways, here is your new medication. It might make you a little, how should I say this, delirious? You might have trouble with coherency at first. It'll pass though, I promise."

"Coherency?" I was just a little alarmed, and justifiably so. But she was already injecting something into my IV and soon I was out like a light.

I opened my eyes slowly. Strangely enough, I wasn't in pain anymore. I felt- I didn't know how I felt. It was light, kind of soft. Fluffy! That was how I felt, fluffy. Whoa. Who knew heaven was so fluffy. Because I was obviously in heaven. What other place could be so totally awesome?

"Hey Blaine! You're awake!" Now I was sure I was in heaven. Only in heaven could eyes sparkle like that.

"Are you an angel?" I was dying to find out. "And why is the room spinning?"

"Do you want me to call the nurse? She said you might be delirious, but-"

"No! Don't leave! So you are an angel? That is- totally awesome!" He laughed quietly and said something under his breath. It kinda sounded like "This should be interesting," but I wasn't sure.

"I know, it is pretty awesome. So what's your favorite part of being in heaven?" His mouth quirked, as if holding back a smile.

"Well, I would've said the fluffy feeling, but then I saw a real, live angel. So the angels. I think. Actually, maybe the fluffy feeling is better. I guess it just depends…wait, what did I just say?"

Now Kurt was really beginning to look concerned. The mischievous glint in his eye was gone. Not that I minded too much, he was an angel after all. I just wished the room would stop spinning.

I started to hum. _You spin my head right round, right round_. But then I forgot the rest of the lyrics and the tune went with them. And the nurse walked in again.

"Mr. Anderson? Your brother seemed very concerned about your state. I'm just going to ask you some questions, okay?" I nodded my consent, "What is your full name?"

"Blaine Anderson?" I was pretty sure that was right, and was convinced when Kurt nodded in relief.

"Your address?"

I had to think about that one. I lived in the North Pole, right? No, no. Get yourself together Blaine! Then I remembered, "27505 Woodbridge Lane."

"Perfect, your favorite color?"

"Blue or green. It depends on the light."

"The light?"

"Ummm," I panicked when I realized I had been describing Kurt's eyes, "I meant to say my mood?"

"Okay…last question. This is a tough one, just warning you. What did you eat for breakfast the day you were attacked?" Tough indeed. I could already feel the delirium passing, and tried to think past the cloudiness in my mind.

"I believe I had a muffin. A blueberry muffin, to be exact." I smiled. Blaine was back.

"Fabulous. You gave us quite a scare Mr. Anderson. I'll just run a couple of tests and be on my way." She took a few notes and began poking and prodding. Instinctively I grabbed Kurt's hand, squeezing it when she felt my ribs for signs of progress. She asked me to breathe as deeply as I could and I probably cut off his circulation. Whoops. Finally, she finished and left us alone. Do no think about the implications of that. He is masquerading as your brother! Not appropriate.

"What isn't appropriate?" Crap, had I really just said that out loud? I needed to be more careful.

"Nothing, just talking to myself."

"No wonder they ran those tests on you," he teased.

I beamed. Any joke at my expense thrilled me nowadays. Kurt was slowly healing. I may have been the one in the hospital, but the hospital was just annoying to me. My body was in need of work, but I felt fine on the inside from the day I was admitted. It hadn't shaken me like it had shaken Kurt. Then again, I wasn't the one with the death threat hanging over my head. It was then and there that I decided to protect Kurt with everything I had.

No matter what the consequences were.

**A/N: I felt like all the angst was just making me depressed, so I mixed in some lighter parts to this chapter. Did you get the A Very Potter Musical Reference? Couldn't help myself. Reviews=Love!**


	5. Roomies

Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Glee.

"Hey kiddo, you awake? We're busting you out of this place!" Ugh. My dad really had no sense of humor. Couldn't he see that I just wanted to sleep?

A tinkling laugh negated my statement. No way. Kurt had not met my dad. The world was ending. _My_ world was ending.

I opened my eyes hesitantly and saw Kurt smiling at my dad. His blue-green eyes were quick to notice that mine were open.

"Blaine!" he exclaimed happily, "you're up! They're letting you out today, finally." His mood seemed to have lifted massively since I had last seen him. My mind wouldn't stop reeling over the fact that he actually like my father, though.

Kurt liked my father. More surprisingly, my father liked Kurt.

The same father who sent me to boarding school 'to get away from the bullying'. Translation: "You're gay? Get out of my house."

I had little time to ponder this, however, because Kurt chose that exact moment to take my hand and excitedly pull me up.

"Owww?" I complained, but I was kidding. Mostly.

"Oh come on, Blaine, I'm sure it didn't hurt that much. Let's get out of here. Hospitals are depressing." He had a point. I slowly got up, mentally taking inventory of my body. My ribs were still sore, but those would take a while to heal. My head seemed fine, if a little tender, but overall I was feeling eons better than when I had been admitted. And seeing Kurt back in control just made my release that much sweeter.

Xxx

"What do you mean they screwed up my papers?" I half asked, half shouted at my very flustered father.

"I don't know! I said you were back and they thought you were dead. They thought that your admittance to the hospital had been," he swallowed, "permanent."

"No friggin' way. Unbelievable. I'm obviously not dead! Now I don't even have a room!" This was testing my patience just a little too much. Anyone who knows me can easily tell you I'm not a hothead, but if things get too out of hand I'm tend to bottle it up for as long as possible. Then I explode.

Something eerily similar happened with Kurt. I tried to be charming when I met him, but the moment he left I was gushing (yes, gushing. I'm honestly not explaining that any further) to Wes and David about him. They could only take it for so long. My personal playlist (made up of some songs I really regret having on there) that I made after I'd met him was mysteriously deleted four times, right after they had visited my dorm, but I knew the playlist by heart. They described me as "sickening" during that time. I'm quite sure I was, but I just didn't care.

Kurt walked in on my rant and heard just the last part. "What on Earth are you talking about? Your room is right upstairs. We told you could use the guest room, Blaine, it really isn't a big deal." He was, thankfully, oblivious to my random explosion.

"No, Kurt, they put someone new in my room at Dalton. I am officially room less. They found my papers, I guess, but they thought I was dead." I laughed humorlessly. I was just so not in the mood for this.

"I- I don't have a roommate…" Kurt's voice was hesitant, and as he looked up at me through those dark lashes I saw a hint of the boy who I'd thought we'd left at the hospital. And I knew he was still scared. He needed me there with him.

"Would you mind if I roomed with you, then?" I tried, and failed, to keep my tone casual.

"No, no. Of course not." We were both red by now, but whereas my blush was faint and fading quickly, Kurt's was fiercely spreading across his face. My dad just looked uncomfortable.

"Great. Thanks," I said stiffly. When his face fell at my formality I warmed up my tone. "Really, thank you so much. I don't know what I would've done." I ruffled my hand through my dark curls nervously. Talking to Kurt always made me feel like this. I was self-conscious, flustered, unnerved. Not at all like the Blaine Anderson I had known my whole life.

My dad spoke up. "Hey Blaine, I'm gonna go. I have to-" he stalled, "do something. And Kurt, thanks for letting Blaine room with you while we get his papers filled out."

"It's really no trouble." He was blushing too, and I wasn't even sure how we could even converse normally past the tension in the air. My dad quickly made his was out of the house.

xxx

"Kurt?" his dad called from upstairs, "You up?"

Kurt turned towards the stairs and called, "Yeah, why?" He seemed a little annoyed at his dad. Weird. I shifted on my feet, feeling like a stranger in the Hummel house.

"Just wondering." Kurt huffed a sigh into the air and I laughed quietly.

"He always does this!" Kurt cried out indignantly, successfully killing the awkwardness. "Thank God I'm rooming with you. You won't yell at me will you?"

"Of course not," I beamed, and for the first time since I'd gotten admitted to the hospital I thought things could possibly go back to normal, back to when I was the mentor who might've been something more, back to when we were just normal teenage guys. Who had a strange love of singing,

"Oh my God Blaine! Are you okay?" I had somehow managed to walk directly into the closed door of the bathroom. Impressive. How had I not seen that? I shook it off and answered Kurt.

"Never better." Those words had never been so true in my life.

Xxx

"Dude, how did you get a room to yourself as a new boarder? It took me six months, five solos, and acceptance to the soccer team to get my own." Kurt's room was massive. Like, crazy big. It was a typical Dalton dorm, but his was a corner unit, which had more space, and you could see little touches of Kurt coming through here and there. The corkboard with pictures of his family, the extra wardrobe, the cluttered bathroom that at the same time was immaculately clean. Just seeing it made me smile.

He thought about my comment for a moment. "They just assigned me the room. And you're on the soccer team?" His tone was carefully restrained, and a hint of interest was covered by obviously false apathy.

"Yeah, I've been the captain since last year. I could've sworn I've told you before at some point." I racked my brain, but couldn't remember. "I guess it just never came up. Do you play any sports?"

Kurt laughed at me. What? Wasn't that a normal question guys asked other guys?

"If you count power shopping, then yes. And I play it well." Oh. Never mind then. No wonder he had looked so bored when football was on the hospital TV. There was another awkward silence and I was about ready to kill myself when Wes thankfully texted and said we had to go to practice.

Xxx

When we got back from practice and dinner it was almost ten, and Kurt and I were both exhausted from both waking up so early and coming back to classes. We decided to turn in early and (after Kurt's endless moisturizing routine) fell asleep.

That may or may not be a lie, depending on how you look at it. Kurt did fall asleep, and rather quickly too, but I had never actually boarded with someone before, let alone someone I had- erm- feelings toward. I just couldn't help it. His face was so calm when he slept. It was the first time I had ever seen him completely stress-free. I kept looking over at him and the way he curled up into a ball when he slept, and how he made slight movements every once in a while, like a kick or a turn. Every time he moved I held my breath and closed my eyes, but he never woke up.

Xxx

I groaned. There was absolutely no way it was morning already. It was still dark! I grabbed my phone from the nightstand next to me and looked at the time. The bright light blinded me for a second until I could read the numbers.

3:28 AM.

Well that explained a lot. But why was I awake? I always slept through the night, even through the morning sometimes. I searched for the cause and found it when Kurt mumbled something in his sleep again. I sighed. That's what I got for landing myself in the hospital, I guess. A roommate who talks in his sleep. But then Kurt murmured again, and I listened to what he was saying.

"No…stop it. Leave us alone. Stop it! Just stop! Stop it!" Oh. After feeling tremendously guilty for my thoughts, I was startled when suddenly he started kicking. He restlessly squirmed and pulled at the covers, and in a flash I was at his side.

"Kurt? Kurt, it's okay. I'm right here. Wake up, hey wake up." I nudged him gently, shifting his shoulders.

Bad idea. His voice was louder, and his tone became more urgent, "Get off of him! He didn't do anything wrong! Leave him alone!" He let out a broken sob. It wasn't too hard to guess what the dream was about now. I shook him, harder this time, and found myself looking into a frantic pair of blue eyes.

He searched the room wildly, his breath coming in small, shaky gasps. He was still whimpering a little bit, and he pulled the covers up to his chin before resting his gaze on me again.

"Blaine?" he asked, and his voice was full of fear.

"Yeah, it's just me. Everything's gonna be okay, I promise. Calm down." I really was no good at calming people down. My older brother, Connor, was ten when I was born, and the age difference was pretty tough to overcome. I never really got to know him as well as I would have liked. When I had nightmares it was always my mom who comforted me, and I could tell that was what Kurt needed. His mom. And she wasn't around anymore to comfort him. No wonder he was scared.

"It's ok. You're fine."

He looked terrified. His hair was sticking up in several different directions, and that along with the look in his eye made him look years younger than he really was. He immediately sat up.

"You can go back to sleep Blaine, I'm fine." Kurt tried to compose himself. His pride wouldn't let him depend on anyone but himself. It was going to be hell to break through, but I had to try.

"And leave you alone after a nightmare like that? I don't think so. Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, but then seemed to reconsider. "Was I talking in my sleep again?" I nodded slowly. "Could you figure out what it- the dream- was about?" Another nod. He buried his hands in his face, and I got up, thinking he wanted space, that I had intruded too far, until I saw his shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

"Kurt?" concern colored my voice.

"It- it was horrible," he whispered into his hands, "it was- well, you know what it was about- and I couldn't move, and they kept hitting you, and I just wanted them to stop, or for you to run, or something. But they wouldn't stop and you wouldn't run and- it was just horrible." His voice broke several times and the pain in his voice was startling.

"Kurt, I promise, I will always be there for you. Always."

His voice was thin and small when he finally spoke up, "That's what I'm afraid of."

**A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long to post, I had a large chunk of it written, but writer's block struck hard with this story. I also want to apologize for the poor quality of the chapter itself. I don't hate it, but I don't love it either. I started another story that I will be posting soon, and I've been inspired more with that one. Please let me know in your reviews if you want me to continue this one!**


	6. Shine

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Glee. But I'm borrowing their characters really fast. I'll give them back, I promise!**

I stared at him in shock, the words resonating in my head mockingly.

_That's what I'm afraid of._

But why? Did Kurt not trust me? Did he not want me there anymore? His response had left me reeling.

"Why?" I finally got the courage to ask shakily. I held my breath, waiting for the response.

He seemed to choose his words carefully, pausing before replying, "Remember what I told you in the hospital, Blaine? How everything I touch gets ruined?" I cringed at the memory, "It's true. And I can't let you get killed because of me Blaine. I could never live with myself." His voice wavered over the last line.

If I didn't word my response just right I knew I would lose him. To steady myself I drew in a few deep, calming breaths. Then I opened my mouth- right as Wes walked in.

"Hey, I heard some commotion. You guys all right?" he asked, eyeing Kurt's red face and my grave one with trepidation.

"Everything's fine," I responded, slightly annoyed at his intrusion.

"Yeah, we're fine. I just had trouble sleeping." Kurt sounded totally normal. He was so good at hiding his emotions.

The last time he did this was when we were at his house, but under different conditions. I was pretty much passed out drunk and had said what I'd been afraid to say before: "I love you." I had a very low alcohol tolerance; this instance just supported that fact. He'd taken it in stride, however, and responded, "I know. Now go to sleep." I smiled, remembering.

"Blaine, um hello?" Oops. Apparently Wes had asked me some question I missed.

"Huh?" This was not one of my more articulate moments, but I was too caught up thinking about other, more important things.

"I said, it's almost four in the morning. Go to bed, both of you. I swear, if I hear one more peep out of this room I might spontaneously combust."

"Yeah, okay" I mumbled as Kurt also whispered his affirmative. With a curt nod, Wes turned to leave. His mood had startled me at first, but then I realized it was totally reasonable to be cranky at four in the morning.

"We should get some sleep," Kurt turned, his back towards me, and I grudgingly made my way back to my bed, shivering in the cold blankets.

"Yeah, we should. Let's talk in the morning though, okay?" I had to try to make this right. I owed it to him.

But Kurt was already fast asleep. I was relieved at the peace finally evident on his face and closed my eyes. Finally. I was almost gone when I heard something. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and heard a single, distinct word come from Kurt's lips.

"Blaine," he sighed, and the way he said it made me fall asleep happily, smiling into the darkness.

Xxx

_Beep, beep, beep_. The obnoxious alarm clock assaulted me and I fumbled for the edge of the covers, my eyes still resolutely shut. I yanked myself into a sitting position unceremoniously and looked for Kurt, finally opening my eyes.

He wasn't there.

I bit down the panic bubbling up and fought the urge to laugh at my own stupidity as I heard the shower running in the bathroom. Way to overreact Blaine.

I slowly got ready for the day, tugging on my uniform jacket, gelling my afro (my hair doesn't like to lie flat in the morning), brushing my teeth, grabbing my bag. Kurt was doing the same, and I could tell he was just as tired as I was. We were both physically and emotionally drained.

And we still needed to talk. The only problem was that I couldn't seem to meet Kurt's eyes. Every time I looked at him he would look away. Anywhere. The ground, a friend, a class, a poster. Anywhere but at me.

"Kurt!" I finally shouted, 3 periods later when I saw him in the hall. This was ridiculous. He turned guiltily, and I could already see the disappointment in his face. My gut wrenched uncomfortably.

"Oh, hi Blaine. I- uh- didn't see you there," Kurt stuttered.

I took a deep breath, "Listen, I need to get this off my chest. I love you," I was the king of running straight into awkward moments. He looked startled, "It's true. When Wes interrupted us that was all I wanted to say. Nothing you said is going to keep me away from you. I'm not scared of getting hurt, I'm scared of losing you."

"I don't want you to get hurt." His voice was small, scared and shaky.

"I know," I smiled, "But you aren't getting rid of me that easily."

He smiled back, and I daringly took his hand as we walked down the hall to Warblers practice, ignoring the somewhat troubled look in his eye. He didn't let go.

Xxx

I turned around, shutting my locker, and almost ran straight into Wes and David. They looked at me, arms crossed, reminding of a bad mafia movie.

"Um, hey guys. What's up?"

"Oh, you know what's up," Wes said, "It's us that don't know what's up."

"Agreed. What _is _up, Blaine?" David asked venomously.

What was with them? I had resolved things with Kurt, and I was thrilled. Maybe something more was going on between us now. Who knew? Certainly not me.

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

Wes's eyes narrowed and he looked at David with a mischievous glint in his eye. David nodded. What was going-

"Hey- guys! Put me down!" They had each grabbed an arm and were now carrying me easily through the halls, meriting more than a few odd glances. Darn being short. After kicking and only meeting air I gave up and just waited as they finished whatever plan they had in dragging me somewhere.

They unceremoniously dropped me on the floor of my own dorm, their obvious destination, and locked the door behind them.

"We're your best friends, right?" I nodded at David mutely after picking myself up off the ground, "and you tell us everything?" I nodded again.

"Liar," stated Wes offhandedly, "and a terrible one at that. We've just been waiting for you to mention it, but we gave you the benefit of the doubt far too long. What the heck is going on between you and Kurt? And don't say nothing or I may have to kill you both."

So this is what it was about. All through the years I had confided in my two best friends countless times. The one time I didn't was about the one thing I couldn't even admit to myself. I sighed.

"Listen, I know this is gonna sound weird, but I don't know where we stand," seeing the angry looks on their faces I continued hurriedly, "but I know where I want us to stand. You won't tell anyone right?"

Wes and David both looked offended. "I'm not even responding to that," said Wes, at the same time as David replied, "When have we ever?"

"Sorry, sorry. It's just that this is a big deal for me. I realized I loved Kurt from the moment I saw him. He was just standing there with his bag, and his eyes were so wide and clear and innocent, and I don't know, something just clicked. I was like 'this is it,' and my feelings never changed." David pretended to gag, but I ignored him.

"Doesn't he like you back?" Wes prodded, sensing some deeper part to my story.

"Yes! That's what's killing me! Ever since that idiot Karofsky hit me Kurt seems to think that it's his fault I got hurt. He doesn't want to get too close to me because he's scared for me and for my safety. I can't let him do this to himself; it isn't fair to him. All I want is a normal relationship with the guy I love, is that too much to ask?" I was mortified to realize that my voice cracked on the last sentence, sending it careening up a full octave.

David looked at me gravely, "No, it isn't. With a little help from yours truly Kurt will be fine in no time." I didn't like the sound of that, and I told David so.

"Too bad," he grinned, and he and Wes bolted, no doubt already scheming, and left me alone, sitting on the floor.

Xxx

The first sign I had that something was up was when I was practicing my solo for practice. I'd been planning it for ages. It wasn't going to be my first time singing to Kurt (Teenage Dream, anyone?), but it was going to be the first time that we were both fully aware of the implications. And I was excited. I rested my hands on the piano and began to sing:

_I step outside into the light_  
_The sun is bright, I close my eyes_  
_The summer caught me by surprise_  
_and now I'm left here waiting_  
_for you to tell me how it is_

I thought of Kurt as I sang, smiling into the words.

_If I could only get a kiss_  
_I could make you take a risk_  
_on a boy who wants this_  
_And now the sun has sunk below_  
_The evening wind now starts to blow_  
_I catch the scent of you're perfume_  
_It lifts me higher than the moon_

_I'll be fine if you stay by my side..._

I put all my emotion into the chorus, bending over the keys, feeling the strain on my voice and not even caring.

_Never felt this way in my whole life_  
_Never had this feeling before tonight_  
_I can't get you off my mind_  
_Cause you shine, Boy_  
_Oh you know you shine_

_Your eyes are brighter than the sun_  
_They make me see that you're the one_  
_Your smile takes my breath away_  
_and leaves me with nothing to say_

I looked up, getting ready to sing the next lines, when I was cut off.

"Blaine?" Kurt glanced up from the ground shyly when I jumped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I really should be going. Wes just told me-"

"Wes?" I asked, confused, "what did he tell you?"

"That there was a meeting in here, and I was late. I rushed down here and it was just you. You sounded great by the way." He beamed.

I groaned inwardly. Really, Wes? This was why I didn't tell them things. They always tried to meddle. Sighing, I finally responded to Kurt, who was looking at me worriedly when I buried my face in my hands. I finally risked a peek and found him walking over to sit next to me. Hey, Blaine, wake up! Use your voice! Right. My voice. I opened my mouth and finally spoke after a few seconds.

"Thanks, that's one of my favorite songs." I sang it for you, I wanted to tell him. No, I wasn't that brave yet.

"Mine too. Hey, do you want to go to dinner sometime?" he asked unexpectedly. I was shocked and ashamed. Of course he was braver than I was. I was such a hypocrite. I was preaching about courage when I couldn't even tell a guy I liked him through song. I was mentally beating myself up when Kurt cut in.

"It's fine if you don't want to, I just thought-" his face was flushing out of embarrassment and I started talking before he could finish.

"No, no, of course I want to! When and where?" My eagerness seemed to have calmed him down a bit and he told me Friday at Breadstix.

It was a date.

Xxx

**A/N: This story was giving me problems the last couple chapters with regards to the plot, but I feel like I'm somewhat back on track. I have big plans for Blaine and Kurt in this story, it's shaping up to be relatively long. :D I'd like to thank all of the awesome support from all of the people reviewing, alerting, favoriting, and just reading my story! It means so much to me to see so much positivity! If you haven't already, also check out my story Torn Apart. It's very different from this one, but it has a similar basis. Ok, that's a lie. But still check it out!**

**That note was long. And a lot of it made no sense. Please bear with my ramblings!**

**Reviews = an attempt at fluff? Anything is possible!**


	7. Run

**Disclaimer: still wishing I owned Glee. But sadly, that dream will most likely never become a reality. (And it's on hiatus until the end of April-boo!). At least I can have fun with the characters!**

I stood in front of the mirror. No, too preppy. But wasn't I supposed to be preppy? I removed the sweater, looking again. Put it back on. Took it off. Nothing seemed right. I groaned in frustration as David walked in.

"Dude, what is up with you? You're acting like that sweater is a matter of life or death," he teased as he saw me shrug it back on, "you have a date or something?"

"Maybe," I said, my cheeks turning bright red. He obviously hadn't realized he was on target when he replied, "Oh!"

"Yeah," I said awkwardly, "sweater or no sweater?"

He pretended to look me over critically, "put it on now, and then take it off if it's warm in the restaurant!"

Hm. Not a bad idea. I slowly reached my arms through the sleeves for the umpteenth time that night and he smiled.

I really hoped Kurt liked that sweater.

Xxx

"You ready to go?" Kurt asked, forcing me out of my reverie.

"Y-Yeah," I stammered, "totally ready."

He looked at me, confused, but otherwise ignored how strange I was acting. I'll admit it, I was nervous. I may have been charming and dapper (not my words), but I was still a person: A person who got really nervous when it was time to go on his first date that counted. Maybe I'd been on dates before, but those were with girls. My dad didn't exactly appreciate the whole gay thing and set me up with too many females to count.

"Blaine, seriously, are you all right? Your hands are shaking."

"Fine, I'm fine. Hey, we're here!" I groaned inwardly. Is it even possible to sound faker than you just did? Smooth, Blaine, smooth. Calm down.

"The reservation should be under Anderson," I told the waitress after finally managing to slow down my heart rate a little. She nodded and led us to a table for two, winking at me. Kurt smirked.

"She totally just checked you out," he said to me, laughing, "What do you think? Is she your type?"

"Absolutely," I replied sarcastically. He grinned.

We each grabbed a menu and searched in companionable silence. Mushroom ravioli, grilled chicken, American-style hamburger. Nothing seemed right for a first date. I decided to go with whatever he was getting, just in case. You never knew with these things.

"Hello, what would you like to drink?" asked the waitress, staring at me. I shifted uncomfortably.

"A mineral water for me. Kurt?" I asked.

"An iced tea, please," he replied, glaring frostily at the waitress. Who still happened to be looking at me. I turned to talk to Kurt as she finally left.

"So…"

He looked amused. "You know, I really-" he stopped suddenly, blanching.

"You really what? Kurt?"

"It's him," he whispered, "behind you. It's all of them. Oh my Gaga they brought the whole team."

I turned around. Everywhere I looked there seemed to be a McKinley jersey, and in the center of it all was him: The guy who had made Kurt's life a living hell. Karofsky. This was going to be interesting.

"Maybe they won't notice us."

"And maybe I'll start shopping at Salvation Army!" he hissed back at me.

"Kurt, listen, we'll be fine. We can just eat in peace and they might leave us alone."

"It won't make any difference," his usually confident voice wavered, "they'll find us. And then they'll hurt you again and I- I should've just left at the hospital. Blaine, if they hurt you-" he broke off, unable to finish.

"No. Kurt, look at me. If you'd left I would have come back and found you. If they hurt me, they hurt me. That's it. Now calm down. If you talk any louder they _will _hear us."

"Can we go?" he whispered. Kurt looked panicked and I thought I could hear him hyperventilating.

"Of course, any plans?"

"We could ask your waitress friend," he smiled, "to help us out with a distraction."

I grinned. This was the Kurt I knew and loved. Lifting my hand, I waved her over. _Macey_: her nametag read. Her eyes lit up when she walked towards me and I fought the urge to groan. Not again.

"Hello, Macey, is it? My friend and I wanted to know if you could keep those football players occupied for a few moments? It would be immensely helpful."

"Sure thing. Just give me one minute." As she walked away I could tell she was swaying her hips just a tad more than necessary. I smirked just as Kurt turned to me. When he saw where my gaze was he smacked me.

"Blaine Anderson! We're trying to think of a plan, not stare at some poor, misguided waitress' butt!" I almost laughed out loud at his wording, but managed to restrain myself at the last minute. He looked stressed enough as it was.

"Sorry, sorry. How about we sneak out the back door?"

"Not bad. A little cliché though…"

"That doesn't matter, all that matters is getting out. Come on, they look distracted enough to me." 

Macey was talking to Karofsky and Azimio about something frivolous and they seemed to be buying it. It was now or never. We slowly crept out of our booth and behind the counter. I opened the door to the back slowly and I breathed a sigh of relief as it closed behind me. I hugged Kurt, pulling him tight. That was way too close for comfort. We walked to the car holding hands, scared but happy, until I heard something.

"Hey homos!"

Crap.

Xxx

"Keep walking," I whispered urgently into Kurt's ear. He was shivering, "Almost there."

We were about ten yards from the car when we were stopped. I hadn't heard the jocks running in behind us, but I could make out their shapes now in the sparsely lit parking lot as they stepped in front, blocking our path to the car. Kurt's eyes were wide.

Azimio spoke first, "Hey homos, y'all are disgusting. We were just trying to eat in peace and then you came along and ruined it. Ain't that right, guys?" There was a murmur of approval from the other eight or nine guys. Far too many to outrun or fight.

"We were there first," said Kurt quietly.

"Really?" now another jock spoke, "'Cuz that's not how we saw it."

Karofsky smiled at me and my blood ran cold. I was all for courage, but my mind was screaming at me to panic. Too bad both options would end badly.

"Yes, really. Now please go back inside. We were just leaving," it was amazing how Kurt's voice never shook. I wanted so badly to take his hand, to reassure him, but that would just make the situation all the worse.

"You know what? I don't think we will," Karofsky spoke for the first time that night.

"When I say run, you run. Then you call the cops. Deal?" Kurt whispered urgently to me when the football players turned to talk amongst themselves.

"I'm not running. You go. I can distract them."

"Yes you are. They won't chase after you, they'll chase after me."

"And what happens when they beat you up? What happens when I'm gone? " My tone was sounding more and more stressed by the word.

"Call the cops when I tell you to. If you don't run we'll both end up getting hurt, I need you to get help," his eyes were pained.

The jocks hadn't noticed most of our rushed conversation, but now were growing impatient.

"Hey, shut up!" One of them was braver than the rest.

"One," No. This couldn't be happening.

"Two," I wouldn't go. I couldn't. I couldn't just leave him here by himself. Blaine, you idiot, why didn't you fight harder? Now he'll do something stupid and get hurt and it's All. Your. Fault.

"Three!" he cried, launching himself at Karofsky. At first I was too stunned to move, but when he began clawing and biting I knew I needed to get help before it was too late. I needed to call while Kurt was holding his own. Looking behind my back as I ran, I sprinted across the parking lot into the alleyway on the side of the restaurant.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"We're at Breadstix at the corner of Washington and Libra and my friend is getting mugged by a bunch of jocks in the back parking lot. He's being attacked," I rushed to get out all of the necessary information.

"A rescue vehicle will be there shortly. Do you need medical assistance?" her voice was oddly calming, but it wasn't enough to distract me from the situation.

"We will," I responded grimly, knowing this could not end well. Then I started to run back to where Kurt was until I was intercepted.

"Found him!" cried a Neanderthal cheerfully.

_Courage!_ Cried my heart weakly. But my mind said, "RUN!"

So I did.

Xxx

I decided to try for a circle. I couldn't just leave Kurt, but it wouldn't be leaving if it were my only option, right? I couldn't get a clear answer past the adrenaline rush. Just keep running. Focus on staying alive first, and then go rescue Kurt.

I heard the sirens of the ambulance and police cars and whatever else was coming to save us and cut sharply towards the sounds. The heavy patter of footsteps behind me told me to keep sprinting if I valued my life.

_I have to save Kurt_.

My legs were starting to shake, but I couldn't stop. If I stopped now I was a goner. I sped up. Almost there.

I broke into the clearing and almost ran straight into a police officer. My knees went weak with relief. I started to collapse and felt a medic grab my arm.

"You okay son?" he asked.

"Gotta," breath, "find," breath, "Kurt."

"We need to fix you up first. Looks like you've suffered from exhaustion and a pulled muscle in your right leg."

We made slow progress towards the waiting ambulance. I leaned heavily on the medic while searching for Kurt.

Where was he? Was he okay? Was he already in the car? Was he severely injured? Was he ali-? No. He had to be. I wouldn't let myself think he was- he was gone. One step at a time. Just keep moving.

I wasn't sure how, but miraculously I made it to the stretcher without collapsing on the way. I felt ridiculous as I was strapped in. Was this really necessary? I needed to find Kurt.

Suddenly I felt a sharp prick in my arm, and looked up to see an IV. A nurse injected something and I could already feel myself getting drowsy. Not fair. I needed- I needed to find- to find Kurt. I needed to find him- and- I needed-

I slowly felt myself drift away in to blackness.

**A/N: Sorry to those of you who might have been expecting some fluff. I'm no good at it, I prefer angst any day. Or drama. Or anything non-fluffy. Maybe some fluffy moments work…but I digress. Thanks so much to all of my reviewers and alerters! **

**Karofsky's back, and with him are demons that Kurt and Blaine need to face. Will their relationship pull through? Is Kurt going to be okay? Find out next chapter!**

**And don't forget to check out my other story, Torn Apart!**

**Reviews = oxygen! :D**


	8. Pretending

**Disclaimer: Will a sad, forsaken sigh cover it? I most definitely do not own Glee**.

I opened my (heavy) eyelids and looked around. This was not my dorm. Where was I? Why was I in the hospital? Why- oh. Right. The attack. A sudden wave of déjà vu swept over me as I remembered a different day, a different attack. But this time it wasn't just me who was involved.

The attack. I jolted upright, ignoring the slight pain that flared in my leg. I'd heal fine. It wasn't me I was worried about. Was Kurt okay?

"I see you're awake," said the nurse, looking down at me kindly, "How are you feeling?"

Like crap. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Do you know what room Kurt Hummel is in? I really need to see him." I suddenly hoped desperately that we weren't in the same hospital as last time. That bipolar incident hadn't gone over too well.

"Well you sound eager to see him! I would suggest resting a little, but if you're feeling fine you can go. I believe he's in room 301, but if you want to go, you'll need to take these crutches. Your hamstring in your right leg was pulled pretty badly." Her words were accentuated as I tried to put a small amount of weight on it and winced. Ouch.

I grabbed the crutches and hobbled to room 301. It was right around the corner from my room, and as I turned I saw Burt walking out.

"Mr. Hummel!"

He turned. "Blaine, good to see you're okay. Can you tell me what happened? Kurt was a little vague on the details."

So Kurt was awake. I smiled a little, processing that bit of information.

"Of course, sir, we-"

"Please, just call me Burt."

"Okay, Burt, we were having dinner at Breadstix and were more than a little surprised when the whole football team from McKinley, including Karofsky, showed up. We tried to leave without making a scene, but they caught up to us in the back. Kurt tried to fight them off while I got help," I felt painfully weak when I said that, "but I'm not sure how he is?"

"He's a fighter. He's got a couple broken bones, some pretty bad bruises on his arms, and he looks dead tired, but he'll come through." I sighed with relief. He was going to be fine. "What did you say those boys' names were? The ones that beat up my son?"

I answered Mr. Hum- I mean Burt, and soon he was on his way to the cafeteria to get lunch, his phone in hand. My nervous fidgeting had probably helped him along. I couldn't help but shift my eyes and my fingers spasmed of their own accord. I was dying to see Kurt.

Steeling myself in front of the door in the (now empty) hallway, I slowly pushed the door open.

I started. Yes, Kurt was going to be fine, but that didn't make seeing him in this position any easier. He was awake, looking at the ceiling through a black eye that had swelled up. He had a cast on his arm and a brace on his foot, and an IV was dripping steadily into the elbow of his (comparatively) uninjured arm. I'd never seen him look so vulnerable, and I felt strangely like I was intruding on his privacy.

"Hey," he said without looking up. His voice rasped and he winced at the sound. When you have a voice like Kurt's, I guessed it would be tough to hear it damaged like that.

"You alright?"

He sighed, "Do I look alright? Honestly, there's no use pretending I don't feel like I got hit by a truck. All I can do is remind myself why I did it in the first place. Remember why it was worth it." He smiled shakily.

"You don't always have to be the hero," I said quietly.

"No, but I…" he paused, choosing his words carefully, "sometimes I feel like I'm the reason people get hurt in the first place, and I-" he cut off suddenly, choking back a sob.

"Hey, it's okay," I lowered my voice. "We can talk about all of this later. Right now, you just need to rest and get better."

I started to turn around, leaning heavily on my crutches, when he called out to me.

"Can you stay a little longer?"

Xxx

The next days meant slow progress for Kurt. My leg was still bothering me, but it was mostly annoying. I missed being able to walk normally. But even though it hurt like hell, I walked to Kurt's room and back to mine several times a day.

At first, things were fine, if a little strained. He was asleep half the time because of his concussion, but I didn't mind watching him sleep. The lines of worry on his face smoothed out and he looked so much younger.

When he was awake, we had meaningless conversations. Disney, Broadway, school, you name it. It was when we ran out of things to talk about that it was just awkward. As time wore on, though, I could tell he hated being the victim. When I visited his room (against the orders of my nurse) he put up a front. But the few times I caught his expression as I left, it was like the dropping of a mask. His hardened façade disappeared. And those few seconds hurt me the most.

The worst came about five days into my hospital stay.

"Hey!" I'd said, happy to see him.

"Listen, it's not that I don't like you, but you come here all the time. Can a little time by myself every once in a while?" his eyes were hiding an expression I couldn't place.

It was like he'd slapped me. Yes, I'd been to his room a lot, but he'd been in mine most of the time when I was hurt. I was confused and hurt when I mumbled and almost ran out the door.

I'd thought we could pull through it, and even get stronger, but I was wrong.

I was a coward. Kurt was putting up a wall. And our relationship was in shambles. Our easy banter was gone completely by now and I couldn't handle it anymore. My visits got less and less frequent as I recovered and was eventually released.

On the day I was leaving the hospital, I went to see Kurt one last time. His bruises were yellowing, the IV gone, his foot healed, but he still looked drained. My heart panged. Maybe we'd gotten on each other's nerves, but he was still the boy I loved. I winced when I thought about past encounters. I needed to set things right between us. I needed closure.

"Hey, I'm leaving in a few minutes."

"Fantastic." His clipped tone was bitter and I slumped a little in the chair I'd sat in. A sharp reply was on the tip of my tongue, but I fought it back. Not the time.

"What happened to us? We used to be best friends. We used to be in love, Kurt. Now we act like strangers." It was my last chance, I could feel it. He needed to hear me out.

He looked up at me sadly. "I still love you, you know. But this is- it's for the best. It really is," he nodded, as if to reassure himself, "No one can get hurt but me."

It came crashing over me like a wave. How had I missed it? He'd been distancing himself and I'd just let him. I'd let him slip away because I thought he didn't want me anymore. I hadn't fought. I thought back over my visits. The way he carefully composed his face when he saw me. The way he broke down when he thought I wasn't looking. The way he never let me come too close.

I felt like an idiot. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. But I didn't have to ask myself what to do. I already knew. He wasn't getting away again.

"I still love you too. And you're not getting rid of me that easily. I'm not giving up on you. Just know that. I didn't before and I'm not now." My confidence wavered when he started shaking his head.

"It won't-"

"Sing with me."

He looked taken aback.

"Please. Just sing with me, and then if you want me gone forever you just have to ask. But please, sing with me first."

"Sing what? My voice is-" he grimaced.

"You pick."

He opened his mouth, and I recognized the song almost immediately.

_Remember all the things we wanted_

_Now all our memories they're haunted_

_We were always meant to say goodbye_

_And even with fists held high and,_

_Something about crying?_

_We were never meant for do or die_

_I wanted something high_

_I love you enough to let you go._

_I want you to know, that it doesn't matter_

_Where we take this road,_

_Someone's gotta go. _

_And I want you to know, _

_You couldn't have loved me better,_

_But I want you to move on._

_So I'm already gone._

Our voices floated and soared and intertwined. I harmonized with his high, clear melody easily, and it sounded beautiful. I was fighting tears the whole time. The song choice said it all. I angrily swiped at my eyes and turned. He didn't want me anymore. I was stupid to think a song would change anything.

I walked slowly, not wanting to leave, but at the same time I couldn't get out fast enough. After every quaking step I waited to hear his voice calling me back.

He never did.

Xxx

Why did Kurt always have to be so freaking noble all the time? Couldn't he just let me in? I stopped pacing abruptly when I realized I'd been going to my room. I didn't need to be there anymore. Spinning on my heel, I walked quickly to the waiting room, increasing my speed.

"Hey, kiddo! Great to see you on your feet!" Ugh. Just another person I had to deal with. I forced a smile, but I could feel it was grotesquely twisted. He pretended not to notice the redness in my eyes.

"Hi Dad. Yeah, it's great. Couldn't wait to get out of there."

He eyed me critically even though he'd already visited me several times before. "You look tons better than you did. Remind me what happened again?" I mentally prepared myself to recite my cover story:

"Kurt and I were walking at Breadstix and I tripped on the curb. I accidentally brought him down with me and we slid on a patch of ice." It was a good thing he hadn't seen Kurt's condition. That would kind of negate my whole alibi.

He just nodded, looking deep in thought. I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I'd gotten most of my personality traits from my mom, and I missed talking to her. It was so much easier.

No. She was gone. I needed to focus on things I could change. Like my relationship with my father. And my relationship with Kurt.

We rode home in companionable silence, my dad turning on some rock station I hated. He didn't question me, I played along. It had always been a pattern in our time together.

I had a feeling it wasn't going to be changing anytime soon.

Xxx

When I got home I immediately grabbed my i-pod, turning it to my least listened-to playlist. It was made for times like this. As the first strains of Celine Dion came on, I sighed, collapsing on my bed. Absentmindedly I began to sing along.

_My heart will_

_Go on and on_

Yes, I had a playlist for extremely depressing days. This day fell under catastrophic, but my lovesick mind hadn't thought this could happen. That this was a possibility. That I'd be left even more broken than he would. But was that even true? Was I mire broken than he was? It sure seemed like it.

"Blaine! Turn down that music! I can't hear myself think!"

I lowered the dial just enough to appease him, then turned the whole thing off. What was the use pretending? I knew I'd have to face things sooner or later. Well, this was the time. Now or never. I took a breath, my shoulders already shaking. He was gone. He didn't want me. He didn't even freaking _care_ about my heart, all he cared about was my 'safety.' No, I wasn't ready to die. Take some crap from some bullies for him? Of course. But why couldn't he see that I didn't care what they said or did?

I love him. The words rang in my head with such conviction that I was startled. It was so true. So perfectly clear and true and right. But he didn't want me anymore. He loved me, he'd told me as much. But if he was already gone, how could I love him back?

I wrapped my arms around my torso, breathing in short, quick gasps. He was leaving me. I'd never be able to compliment him, or kiss him, or make him blush. The tears came with such a force I wondered how I'd kept them back for so long.

Teenage Dream. Baby, it's cold outside. When I Get You Alone. Don't You Want Me, Baby? Blackbird. Candles. Every song had a story, a different meaning. Each made me cry harder, made my hold on myself tighten. It was as if I was holding myself together. Like if I let go, I'd rip apart at the seams.

It felt so _wrong_ not to be with Kurt. I don't know how long I stayed there, sobbing every time a new memory came. The sad ones hurt, but the happy ones hurt the most.

They say you don't know what you have 'til it's gone. I say if it's gone, then go and get it back.

It's your choice.

**A/N: With all the canon Klaine, I figured I'd at least try to break away from the mainstream. For those of you who may be concerned, Klaine **_**is**_** and always has been endgame in this fic. They've just had lots of problems along the way. Sorry for the delay in updating, this story just hasn't been coming to me as easily as it used to. If anyone has any suggestions please let me know. I could use some.**

**Will Blaine ever ease tensions with his father? Will Kurt get over his ridiculous nobility complex? What in the world is Blaine planning? **

**Stay tuned and you'll find out eventually, I promise.**

**Reviews = the will to continue this fic! **


	9. 6 days

**Disclaimer**

**A/N: Sorry I didn't realize before, but I completely butchered the lyrics to Kelly Clarkson's Already Gone in the last chapter. The lines that were incorrect were ones I was going to replace. If you didn't notice, feel free to go back and laugh at my blunder. Now, on with the story:**

Why did he leave? And why was I crying so much? I was Blaine Anderson, I never cried. At least, not often. I was always the strong one, the brave one. But not today. It was a little unnerving how fast I'd broken down after realizing that Kurt had been serious.

At first I'd tried to call him, expecting an answer, but it just went to voicemail. 12 calls and 8 text messages later I tried Burt. No answer. Then I called Finn, but his phone seemed to be off as well. I groaned in frustration.

I had my apology planned out to the letter. I'm sorry. Take me back. We'll be okay. I love you. But nothing seemed to work. Nothing seemed like it could convince him. So I waited.

One day passed. Then two, then three. I was panicking at the thought of talking to him. I was terrified of being rejected.

"You've reached the phone of Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. If you don't know what to do after the tone, I wouldn't bother leaving a message." His tone in the voicemail usually made me laugh, but lately it just reminded me of how badly I missed him.

I dialed a different number this time, trying to find some way, any way, to make some progress.

"Yes, Blaine?"

"Wes! Do you know where Kurt is?" My voice sounded desperate even to me.

"I wouldn't know. Why? Is he out of the hospital already?"

"Yeah, he got released a couple days ago. I tried calling him and I got no response."

"My best guess? He's at home, recovering, and he doesn't want to be bothered by anybody." Oh. Home. That made a heck of a lot more sense than anywhere else.

"Thanks man, I owe you one."

He sounded bemused, as he said, "No problem. Good luck."

Xxx

I don't think I'd ever driven so fast in my life. The ground was slick and wet under my tires and the darkness was complete. It was terrifying and exhilarating and matched my mood perfectly.

I turned on the radio, heard the first few familiar strains of a Broadway song I really didn't want to hear right now, and turned it right back off. I wanted to hum, but every song that came to mind reminded me of Kurt. Everything I saw, everything I heard, everything I remembered somehow tied back to him. He was my everything.

And he really was. I just hadn't known it until now. I sped up even more, the road becoming a blur as I made the familiar trek to his house.

I practically ran up the driveway.

The knocks were more like desperate pounds as I reached the door. I needed to tell him I was sorry. I just didn't know what for. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that the door would open, that I would see him there, that-

"Hello Blaine. What are you doing here at this time of night?" Burt's cold expression made me second-guess my trip.

"I'm here to see Kurt." My voice shook.

Burt looked around uncomfortably, shifting his weight. A sudden coldness flooded through me, and my body seemed to know what Burt would say before my mind did.

"He isn't here." Of course not. I felt something break inside me, and I was sure Burt could see it too.

My next word was barely a whisper. "Where?"

"I- I'm sorry kid." He faltered. "I can't tell you. He wouldn't let me."

I nodded dumbly and said my goodbyes as Burt awkwardly shuffled upstairs. I was turning to leave when Finn walked in and gave me a look that defined pity.

"Hey Blaine. I guess Burt told you…"

"Yeah, he did. Did he say why he was leaving?"

Finn squirmed uncomfortably, refusing to meet my gaze. "I'm sorry man, I guess he was just scared or something. He wouldn't stop saying your name while he packed."

"Packed?" He couldn't have gone _that_ far, could he?

"Oh, I mean- I-" Finn seemed to realize his blunder and shook his head. "Never mind. Listen man, it was probably nothing. You should talk to him."

I gave him my best withering glare and simply said, "I would if I could."

I barely made it to the car, soaking wet, before I started to think about the implications of what had just happened.

I wasn't going to be getting much sleep tonight.

Xxx

I rested my head on my pillow, my mind whirring away. Questions flew out as quickly as they appeared, but only one mattered. Where could he be? I could list places easily, but they were all places he'd never be. Places he associated with me wouldn't be on top of his list. Dalton, the coffee shop, Breadstix, anywhere I imagined. It didn't make sense. He didn't make sense.

I shifted, rolling over. Then I rolled back. I kicked my legs out, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing was right. Sleep wouldn't take me.

And when it finally did, I regretted it.

Xxx

I was back in that parking lot. The moon was out and the place smelled like wet asphalt. Everything was the same besides the fact that it was raining. And the fact that Kurt wasn't there.

My dreaming mind hadn't noticed the discrepancy, and I walked to my car, terrified. The footsteps I knew were coming followed me. Kurt's screams tore into the night. It was almost worse without him there, hearing the cries of pain and not seeing his face. Not being able to stop it. Being helpless.

I bolted upright in my bed, sweating. It was just a nightmare. I tried to go back to sleep by telling myself it wasn't real.

But it was.

Xxx

I woke up in the morning absolutely exhausted. I tried to sit up. My head was pounding and my throat was dry, and I couldn't even remember what day it was. When I finally did recall the events of last night, I fell back into bed with a groan.

I tried to call him again, and I wasn't surprised when his voicemail picked up once again.

It still didn't soften the blow when the one hopeful piece of my heart was shattered.

I had now officially not seen Kurt for five days. Five days of emptiness, of loneliness. But not once in those five days had the blue-eyed, fashionable, and ridiculously noble and proud countertenor left my mind.

It would be unnerving if it weren't so damn painful.

Xxx

That night held the worst dream yet. The day had been lackluster without Kurt there, and I simply went through the motions of my routine. School. Warblers. Homework. Dinner. Nothing even mattered, because every time I tried to slowly return to normal, I could feel the gaping hole that was where Kurt should've been.

It wasn't fair that he could have that effect on me. That he could just walk away, and even when he was gone he could do those things to me. That he could act like _we _ never happened and go on. That I didn't matter to him.

When the dream began, it was different than the others. So different. Because Kurt was standing there, looking incredibly hot in his skinny jeans, and I was smiling. When he leaned in to kiss me, alarm bells went off in my head. He doesn't want you anymore. But I was too caught up to care anymore.

He was absolutely everywhere and I couldn't think. I couldn't even breathe. That was probably why I was so shocked when he pulled away. I felt his breath on my face, light as a feather.

"I can't do this anymore." His eyes were starting to grow cold, to harden.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I don't love you."

And he left me, shocked and confused, alone.

Xxx

When I woke up in the morning of the sixth day without Kurt, I was a mess. My eyes had dark circles under them, my hair was absolutely everywhere, and when I opened my mouth to give myself a motivational pep talk (don't judge me), I sounded like I had swallowed a sack of gravel. Even my angry groan was off.

So of course, Kurt would pick this day to answer my calls.

When I heard the ringtone, I thought I was dreaming. Or that someone was playing a practical joke on me.

"Kurt?" I winced at the way my voice completely cracked.

"Hello Blaine. You don't sound too great. Are you sick?" It was like he'd never even been gone, hearing him speak.

I was mortified when the first response to pop into my mind was _lovesick_, but I managed to keep that inside. Instead, I responded with the infinitely more appropriate, "Yeah."

Everything I'd planned to say flew out the window when I heard him on the other end of the line. He was there. He was actually there. And I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say a million things, but my tongue was tied. I couldn't mess things up. Not this time. But if I said nothing, I would ruin my life in a different way.

His tinkling laugh was tinged with sadness, but I didn't care. I could listen to him laugh all day.

"Kurt, I need to say something." My heart was pounding obnoxiously, and I knew that this would be nothing like I had previously imagined.

"So do I. But you can go first."

I took a deep breath and started to speak, the words rushing out. Nothing was eloquent or charming, and nothing felt right. But that didn't stop me. "I love you. I miss you. I've been miserable ever since you left and I don't know how long I can keep it together. I went to your house. I went to our coffee shop. I went to every place we've ever been together and I've cried more this week than I have in my entire life. I don't know what's coming over me, but I can't do this without you. I don't even care if I get hurt again because it will all be worth it just to see you there next to me."

There was a beat of charged silence, and everything rested on his response. I shut my eyes. His speech was much shorter than mine, and his words were careful, controlled, rehearsed.

"I miss you too. I love you too. But you can go on. I know you can. You were fine before I even met you, you'll be fine now. I know you-"

"I was fine because I didn't know what I was missing! Where are you?" Didn't he get it? That I couldn't function normally if he wasn't there?

I could almost feel his sad smile over the phone.

"I'm gone. I'm sure you'll recover. I love you."

And then the line went dead.

Xxx

"H'llo?"

"Finn, thank God you answered your phone. Where the hell is Kurt?" I was sure I sounded terrifying, but I couldn't tell. The adrenaline was roaring in my ears and my vision was slightly blurred.

"I already told you, I can't-"

"Yes you can!" I dropped my voice dangerously, "Where is he?"

"I- I promised him." I could hear the indecision, and I realized I only needed to work a little more to get an answer.

"I just want to know where he is. I won't even tell him you told me. But I really, really need to see him and make things right, you know?"

His resolve was crumbling. "I don't know…"

"Come on Finn, please?"

"Okay, okay, but you can't tell him it was me. He went to stay with Mercedes for a couple weeks until everything cools down. Happy?"

"Very. Thanks Finn, I owe you one." I seemed to owe everyone nowadays.

I started my car.

**A/N: So I'm sorry about the cliffhanger, but it had to be done. I'll need probably a full chapter to get Blaine in and out of Mercedes' house, and I'm already at the point I usually stop. Is anyone else majorly excited for the new Glee tonight? I most definitely am!**

**I know that this chapter isn't fluffy. At all. But please bear with me. I've been on an intense angst kick for what feels like forever, so I guess I just need to get it out of my system. Once again, thanks so much to all of the alerters and reviewers, I love you all! What did you think of Finn's brief cameo?**

**What will happen between Kurt and Blaine at the Jones house? When will Blaine get his voice back? Will Finn get in trouble for not keeping his promise?**

**Stay tuned!**


	10. Expectations

**Disclaimer: I own Glee! (Not)**

I ran up the steps of the Jones' household. I'd only been once before to pick up Kurt after he'd slept over with Mercedes. We were going to get coffee together that morning. When we'd gotten to the coffeehouse, we'd realized it was closed, and for some reason found it hilarious. I almost started laughing then and there, remembering the moment, the unbridled joy. But just as quickly my breath caught in my throat. That memory opened the floodgates. Everything came rushing back with perfect clarity. Every single beautiful moment we'd had together was coming back to taunt me.

_Not yours_, they said. And he wasn't. Not anymore.

I pounded on the door with everything I had, trying to clear my mind even the tiniest bit. It wasn't worth it to torture myself right now. I heard some scuffling, and finally a voice.

"Oh _hell_ to the nah. What do you think you're doing here?" Mercedes shouted through the door after identifying me through the peephole.

"Is Kurt there? I really need to talk to him." I was mortified at how small my voice sounded.

"One sec," she replied. I then heard a muffled yell. "Kurt, are you here?" I assumed he had assented because soon the door was swinging open and I was on the receiving end of a withering death glare.

"Make it quick. And if you even _think_ about hurting him in any way, well, you better watch out." I just nodded. It was a testimony to my helplessness that her threat hadn't even registered. I wasn't here to hurt him.

She led me through various hallways in her relatively large house. My mind was picking up on random details: a modern lamp, a shade of paint, the crown molding. Anything to distract me from the next conversation. How could I convince him that I couldn't live without him there? None of my other efforts had helped. What made me so sure this one would?

But I had my answer. Nothing. I had no idea what would happen. I just knew that it didn't matter what would happen as long as I got to see him again. Yes, his vacant stares would kill me. But it would all be worth it just to see his eyes and hear his voice one last time. If that.

We finally stopped in front of a closed door. The accents were inlaid into the simple white door. The handle, a polished silver. I took a deep breath. Go. Just go. But I still halted. I began to panic. This was a horrible idea, what was I doing here? He wouldn't want to see me, he-

"You going in or not?"

I slowly turned the handle, closing my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I saw exactly the opposite of what I expected.

He wasn't waiting for me. He wasn't sitting primly, his hair done and moisturizing routine complete, about to tell me to go home. His eyes weren't cold and hard. He wasn't smiling that sad smile I hated so much. He wasn't cool, calm or collected.

What I did see frightened me, to say the least. He was curled up on the bed facing the door. His hair was everywhere, his skin looked blotchy, and his eyes were watery. When he peered up at me through his lashes, my heart panged unpleasantly. His outfit looked like he'd been wearing it since at least yesterday, and I barely heard his strangled gasp when he saw me.

"Hey." The word tasted awful, fake, wrong somehow. He didn't respond, he just kept looking at me. After an uncomfortable silence, he spoke.

"What are you doing here?" He sounded betrayed.

I shifted a little bit, uncomfortable. "I kind of…made Finn tell me."

"Made him?" It was too polite, too formal.

"He gets scared easily," I said, running my hand through my hair. I wasn't exactly proud of my conversation with Finn.

His voice dropped. "I'm glad you came. I was going to find you if you didn't, anyways."

"You were?" I asked incredulously. Surely he didn't mean that.

"I thought I could make it." His voice came out in a harsh whisper, rasping. I had to strain my ears to even hear it at all. He thought he could make it. Did that mean he couldn't? That he couldn't make it without- without me? That after everything we'd been through he'd still take me back? My heart swelled with a dangerous kind of hope. The kind that grips you and consumes you and throws logic out the window. I responded hurriedly, taking advantage of the short pause.

"I didn't even try. I never did. It was always you, Kurt. Always." That had made a lot more sense in my head.

He was already shaking his head. "But that's just it. It was always me. You never had a chance. You got attacked twice because it was always me. I thought I was strong enough to let you go, to do what was best for you. Of course it would hurt, but that was expected. 'Time heals all,' or so they say." His tone was bitter.

"It was never best for me!" I said exasperatedly, "Do you know how hard it was for me? Time just made it harder, because every time I went to that damn coffee shop," he looked shocked at my use of the mild expletive, "I would remember everything about us. Every time I walked into Warblers practice I heard your voice. I never stopped hurting. It never got easier. I just missed you so freaking much, it was- I couldn't-" I trailed off lamely.

He looked up at me in wonder. "You- you don't hate me?"

"I could never hate you." It was so true it almost hurt.

"You don't want to leave me? After all I put you through?" his voice was small and shaky, and all I wanted to do was run and throw my arms around him and kiss him senseless. But that wouldn't be right, not after all this time. Instead I focused on putting conviction in my tone.

"Never. I was terrified you would leave _me_, actually."

"I tried." His voice shook.

"I know," I responded. His eyes were so tortured, and he seemed bent on making things right. But he was giving me the option to stay. And I smiled the smallest smile, because there it was again, that hope that killed, and I was doing nothing to stop it. We just stayed there, eyes locked, until he spoke.

"Blaine?" I'd never loved my name more.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't leave." And he sounded so sad, so broken, that my resolve wavered for just a moment. And it was in that one, golden moment that my body made the decision my mind wouldn't. I made my way to the bed, sitting next to him, and slowly, ever so slowly, I put my arm around him awkwardly. He relaxed into my grip, sitting up. I was slightly surprised when he turned his head into my chest.

"Oh God, I made a hell of a mess of things, didn't I?" he sobbed into my shirt.

"It's okay. We're fine. We're fine now." I rubbed his back comfortingly, and he sank into me the littlest bit more, crying the whole time. I saw Mercedes slowly back up, and I met her eyes for just a second.

_Thank you_.

She whispered, "Anything for my white boy," and I grinned. Anything indeed.

The things we did for love.

Xxx

"Should I wake him up?"

"No, don't! He only just got back, maybe-" Kurt's voice was cut off by a coughing fit that sounded like it had ripped his throat apart.

"Okay, that's it. I'm going to- oh. Blaine. You're awake."

I'd opened my eyes, looking around blearily. Where was I? Mercedes was looking down at me, a concerned expression on her face. Right. The Jones' house.

"Yeah, I'm awake. What's-" I was interrupted by yet another cough. He was going to lose a lung if he kept that up.

"Kurt? Are you okay?" Real clever, Blaine. Of course he's not okay, he's sick! He-

Mercedes overrode Kurt's weak protest at the same time as interrupting my internal sarcastic rant. "He's been up since four in the morning coughing, but he wouldn't let me wake you up. I'll spare you the details, but this boy is _sick_."

Four in the morning? What time was it now? Glancing at the clock, I took a minute to comprehend that he'd been miserable for three and a half hours. And he wouldn't wake me up.

I slowly made my way over to his bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I was relatively alert now that I'd stood up.

If I'd thought he looked bad yesterday, I was badly mistaken.

"Oh my God, _Kurt!_ Mercedes, why didn't you do something? Do you have medicine, or a thermometer, or something?"

"Tried it," she replied sharply, "And nothing happened. I gave him Dayquil and his temperature has been around 101 since he woke up."

"I'd appreciate if we didn't talk about me like I'm not here," chimed the lump on the bed. It seemed like his sarcasm was the only part of him not damaged. He looked up at me, and I started. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and most of his face was flushed a bright red. The few parts that weren't were a deathly pale, and his lips were dry and cracked. He stared up unashamedly, not caring that I'd seen him at his worst. My heart swelled unexpectedly.

As I looked on, more silent coughs attacked his body. When they finally ended, he whimpered quietly, curling in on himself.

"Go," he whispered, though to who it was directed I wasn't sure. Most likely me. But would it really hurt to pretend he'd ever use that tone with Mercedes? Just for a moment?

"No one's leaving, Kurt. I never leave a diva in need, and this boy seems to like you too."

"Well put."

He snorted at our words, then moaned in pain, clutching his stomach.

"I hate life," he groaned, turning away from me.

"Your stomach too?" I threw a panicked glance at Mercedes, "Do you think we should get him to a hospital or something?"

And suddenly Kurt's eyes were watering and the tears were welling up and he looked fully and completely panicked, and Mercedes was sending me the most frosty, withering death glare, and all I could do was take it back. I raised my hands in surrender, backing up.

"Okay, okay, no hospitals. Sorry?"

"Yeah, you better be sorry," her tone was biting. Why had they reacted so strongly? It was just a hospital.

"'Cedes! Give him a break. My mom passed from cancer when I was eight, and we had a recent scare with my dad's heart. He went into a coma," he explained, "It just isn't a place I'd like to go until I absolutely have to."

I knew his mom had passed, but I hadn't known how until Kurt told me. And I'd had no idea about his dad. Wow. The hospital had been a terrible idea. If I'd just bothered to find out about him…

"I'm so sorry Kurt, I didn't realize…but we need to do _something_. Do you know what it is?"

When he replied with a quiet negative, I told Mercedes to bring a laptop. She quickly did, and soon I was typing in symptom after symptom, trying to find the right disease. Kurt answered patiently, his voice cracking every so often. He winced at the sound more than the pain, of that I was certain. And I could fully sympathize. To lose your best weapon? Heartbreaking.

I was fairly certain it was the flu, but it was anything but a mild case. Shivers wracked his slight frame and his coughs made me wince. Every so often he would clutch his stomach and a few tears would leak out. It was painful to watch.

I told him my findings.

"Oh joy, now my misery has a name."

It didn't help when I told him the best thing for him was rest. Though with Kurt, that wasn't a surprise.

Xxx

"Blaine, stop it! I'm probably contagious, and Mercedes doesn't need to take care of two deathly ill people. I'm sure one is perfectly sufficient!"

"First, I got my flu shot last month. Second, you are _not _deathly ill. Third, I honestly don't care if I get sick," I said, pushing his hair away from his forehead. He was really warm due to his fever, a slight sheen of sweat covering his body. He seemed to have no reply to my impressive, if a bit disjointed, logic.

I'd expected our reunion to be just the slightest bit more uplifting. Maybe I was hallucinating the littlest bit with the whole running through the meadow thing, but a guy could dream, couldn't he?

Of course, when it came to Kurt, expectations were never a good idea. You just never knew.

**A/N: I really needed to get this out before BTW showed tomorrow and canon was once again viciously uprooted. I know Kurt ends up moving to McKinley, but I can't decide if this fic should stay at Dalton or not. I'm thinking of moving it, but a few opinions would be nice.  
**

**If you hadn't notice, the second half was my attempt at fluff (read - less angsty portion of story). Any constructive criticism on this fic would be fantastic as well. It's my first ever full-length story and it would be great to get some feedback on the technical part. (Though I'll admit I grin like an idiot every time I see a new review/alert/favorite, no matter what it entails)**

**Gah Kurt's back at McKinley tomorrow! (I'm still having a mini freak out from last week, so please bear with me)**

**Reviews = extreme happiness and excitement in my heart**


	11. A Request

**A/N: I feel awful for waiting so long to update, but I had the absolute worst case of writer's block on this story. Instead of writing this, I managed two oneshots and I started two multichapters, one of which I'm on the fence about. I like it personally a lot, but it barely has any reviews. If anyone wanted to check it out (shameless plug) it's called Of Six, Come One. I'd really appreciate it.**

**Now, on to the long-awaited chapter 11 of my first ever fanfiction…Because of Me!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, you can bet there would be a heck of a lot more Klaine scenes. I actually wouldn't mind deleting all other characters, even if Finn is one of my favorites despite his awkward possessiveness and obsession with popularity…**

"Ugh. I feel like I got run over by a truck."

I just laughed, looking at the pile of covers that had just woken up next to me.

"Not better, then?"

"Oh, much better, actually." The sarcasm was significantly more effective than it had been a few hours ago when Kurt had finally started to recover. He'd really scared me when he woke me up coughing the other morning.

"Glad to hear," I replied cheerily.

"Come on, Frodo, leave the boy alone. He just needs some rest. And some chicken noodle soup?" Mercedes called through the open door, walking in with a tray obviously meant for a meal in bed. This was more like dinner than breakfast, but it was better than nothing.

Kurt just groaned when he saw the food. "You know that goes straight to my hips." He acted as if that was the most repulsive idea in the world.

_I_ liked his hips…

"Really?" Had I honestly said that out loud? Backtrack, backtrack!

"I said, I like chips!" Mental facepalm. I slapped myself inwardly. After all of the progress we'd made since yesterday I really had to go and say something that stupid?

Kurt just smirked at me, a knowing look on his face. "I like _chips_ too."

I sighed, curling up much closer to him than before. That way I at least had an excuse when I buried my face in his hair.

Xxx

It was the next day and I was pretty exhausted. Kurt's fever had broken in the morning and we'd been carefully avoiding any talk about our issues. This, naturally, had bothered Mercedes to no end. Honestly, though, I couldn't just go up to him and start talking. Who knew what would come out of my mouth?

I was still picturing horrifying situations in which my words didn't match my thoughts when Kurt interrupted me.

"Blaine, we really need to talk." He sounded tired and nervous, mirroring my emotions perfectly.

"I know we do. I wanted to start by saying I'm sorry. I shouldn't have followed you here, I was overstepping boundaries you very clearly set." I was very proud of myself for taking the initiative.

He just gaped. He didn't even say anything, just stood there with a look of utter disbelief on his face. "_You're_ sorry? I'm the one who just left and didn't tell anyone. I'm the one who got you thrown in a hospital. I'm the one who ran away."

"No, Kurt, that isn't true at all!" Couldn't he see that I was the one who left him there with those monsters? "You were brave through all of it, and- "

"Please, stop. I was the exact opposite of brave. I was so scared of hurting you that I made it worse. And then you came back and you acted like nothing was wrong. Like this whole mess wasn't my fault, even though it was. I just don't know how I'm gonna be able to go back to Dalton. They love you, Blaine," he said, eyes wide and quickly filling with tears, "and they're going to hate me for what I did to you."

"They would never hate you." I would never let them hurt him. Ever.

"There isn't one person there who would take my side on this. Everyone I've met was your friend first, you know."

"There are no sides! My side is that absolutely nothing was your fault!"

"That's just you. Your friends saw you at school. If you were half as torn up as you said you were they really will hate me. I was just starting to fix things, and then I screwed up."

"I was twice as torn up as I said I was." I saw his eyes widen in disbelief and hurt and I quickly moved on, "But that gives my friends no reason to hate you. When you left, I missed you. That's all that happened. And if you're really scared of going back…" I trailed off, suddenly realizing something.

"Yeah?" he asked quietly.

"I think you should go back."

"What? Go back where?"

"To McKinley." There. I'd said it.

"I've been thinking about that too. And it makes sense, in a way. Karofsky's gone and I really shouldn't be scared anymore. I mean, it's not like being at Dalton made me any safer." I winced, realizing he had a point, "And I really miss New Directions. But I almost feel like I got in too deep at Dalton with Warblers and school and- with you. I don't know if I could just leave right now."

"What if I came with you?" The words were out of my mouth before I even had a chance to think about them. But the more I thought, the more sense they made. If Kurt left and I stayed at Dalton, not only would I miss him insanely, but I would also be scared for him. I would worry about him. If I came, I could both know for sure that he was okay and maybe, just maybe, put the whole running thing to rest.

I looked up at Kurt, trying to sense his reaction. He looked confused and a little bit shocked. "You would do that?" he asked, whispering.

"Of course I would."

"I could never ask you to just leave all of your friends-"

"You didn't ask. I did. Kurt Hummel, can I come to McKinley with you?"

He laughed weakly at my mock seriousness, replying, "I don't even know if I'm going back. Karofsky might be gone, but all the other guys are still there. What if they start targeting you too?"

"We'd face them together. And with the whole Glee club on our side, who could stop us?" I joked.

"I'm serious, Blaine. My tormenters put you in the hospital. If you came with me just because of my insecurities and got hurt again, the guilt would eat me alive."

I shook my head. "Nothing will happen. And if it does, don't feel guilty. You can't. Just be there for me, and I'll be there for you. Deal?"

He waited for a moment that turned into several before finally saying, "Deal."

My grin was ear splitting. "Let's tell your dad!"

He blanched. "He still has that shotgun, you know."

I just laughed. It was nothing I couldn't handle.

I was going to McKinley.

Xxx

Kurt's hand was holding mine in a death grip. "I think you're cutting off circulation," I informed him.

He just snorted, rolling his eyes. He still looked extremely nervous, though, and I was starting to get a little worried. Maybe going to McKinley wasn't such a good idea. It had sounded like a fantastic idea in my head. I could go help Kurt face his bullies and we could put up a united front, taking down prejudices wherever we went with a few inspirational speeches.

Maybe my view was just a _little_ bit optimistic.

We walked together up to his door and he knocked, still not letting go of my hand. We waited a few anxious seconds until I heard lumbering footsteps coming towards us. Bracing myself, I tried to smile, but was pretty certain it came out as more of a grimace. The door swung open to reveal the huge form of…

Finn, Kurt's stepbrother.

"Dude, are you okay? Your face kinda looks like you're in pain."

I rolled my eyes a little bit, but the sight of Kurt's relaxed smile made me feel slightly less on edge. I managed to unfreeze my face (because Finn had a point) and had pretty much calmed myself down when Burt arrived, still wearing clothes from the shop.

His eyes widened in surprise at our linked hands, but he didn't mention it, instead saying, "Welcome home, kid. It's good to see you. You too, Blaine."

"Thank you Mr. Hummel."

He muttered something under his breath at the title, but led the way inside anyways. I followed, pulling Kurt along with me. He had frozen for a moment. Just as he lurched forward, though, he tugged himself out of my grip, launching himself at his dad. I was surprised they didn't both fall over. I made out phrases, but never whole sentences.

"…missed you so much…"

"…you two okay…?"

"…love you, Dad…"

I felt awkward just standing there, and I could tell Finn felt the same. We exchanged a nervous glance just before the father and son parted in front of us.

"All right, Blaine. I'm going to need you and Kurt to fill me in."

And we did. At first we took turns, attempting to use as much as detail as possible without going too much into the feelings behind our actions. He listened, face stoic, as we continued our story. Soon, however, I could tell the stress was getting to him.

I tapped his leg, and he looked up expectantly. I told him I could take it from where he'd left off.

"I shouldn't have let him just leave like that, and I'm really sorry I ever caused this separation in your own home. We…reconciled when I got to the Jones house, and we had some really good conversations to get everything out into the open. We also made a decision, though we'd need your consent, of course."

I looked to Kurt. This wasn't my request to make.

"I want to go back to McKinley. And I want Blaine to come with me."

"Well, that's great, but are you really sure about this? There are a lot of people who won't accept you two, especially since you're…are you two dating again?"

"If he'll have me, sir." I didn't miss the roll of his eyes, but it felt far too awkward to just call him Burt after everything.

"Yeah, Dad, we are."

I felt the smile stretching across my face before it even happened. Finally. After all of the time I'd spent wishing he were mine again, it was happening. Maybe not under the most ideal circumstances (hello, awkward dad moment), but that didn't change a thing in my mind.

"Well, I guess if you aren't afraid of leaving the no-bullying policy…"

"It's not like it ended up helping me. Or Blaine, for that matter."

His dad winced at the choice of words similar to the way I had when I'd first heard them. No matter how good the argument, it wasn't easy to hear. Dalton was supposed to be a safe haven.

Ha. If only.

"All right. I'll set up your transfer, I guess. Blaine, your parents okay with this?"

Right. My parents.

I nodded weakly, smiling as best I could. Later I'd have to try to convince them to let me leave the school I used to love for a dangerous public school. And it was all for a boy. But I'd cross that bridge when I got to it.

Right now, I was fine with pretending that everything was going to be perfect. And when Kurt whispered a congratulations in my ear, it was easy to convince myself it would.


End file.
